


what the water gave me

by nyude



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, Drowning, Fate, M/M, Suicide, Unhappy Ending, chanchan has a doggie, chanhee stumbles across his body, i honestly don’t know, just a vent fic really, newsun, strangers with a connection, sunwoos mother kinda sucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:00:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22026715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyude/pseuds/nyude
Summary: He takes a seat on the edge of the concrete above the water. Stares down at the danger the sea below him holds. The height is dizzying, the water shallow enough to break bones if he was to slip.Or to fall.Or to push himself off.
Relationships: Choi Chanhee | New/Kim Sunwoo
Comments: 17
Kudos: 51





	what the water gave me

**Author's Note:**

> i went to the beach today and i found myself inspired.

The beach holds so many secrets once you look past the happy families. It’s human nature to be curious about the darker perspective. 

The rocks are much sharper than the smooth illusion they form. The waves are harsh, crashing furiously as the seagulls sing their death song. People are scattered around the pier, interested only in one another. Drunk on both laughter and cheap beer, they hold on close to the ones they love. The crowd is sparse. Those who are here are either tipsy or old. Hardly anyone wants to be out on a day like today. 

It’s dark for seven pm, Sunwoo knows this. He watches the the sun start to disappear behind stormy clouds with a sense of yearning. That’s just winter, really. He wishes it could be summer. Wishes he had more time. 

To be like the sun. To have a rise and fall each day. To come back from it every time with apparent immortality, bright and warm. Keeping others motivated to continue, to live, to thrive. He would like that very much. 

Those enjoying the beach do not notice him. They continue about their day with their fries and their shopping bags, turning their heads away as he takes a seat on the edge of the concrete above the water. Stares down at the danger the sea below him holds. The height is dizzying, the water shallow enough to break bones if he was to slip.

Or to fall. 

Or to push himself off.

He kicks his legs back and forth, dark grey trainers bouncing off when in contact with the build. Debates what he will be losing. Remembers it isn’t much, really. Just a mother that only has time for her work. She hasn’t spoken to him properly in weeks. Just one friend, who by the way, doesn’t even like him anymore. Officially cut off. Sunwoo’s heart sinks at the memory. 

There isn’t much point in being here, he knows it. He’s failed all his exams. He doesn’t have a future for himself. There had been rapping, there had been dance, there had even been singing. However, it had all cost too much. Taken up too much of his mother’s time. Been a ‘stupid career choice’, according to his teachers. They had given up on him months ago. Sunwoo grits his teeth as he looks down and watches the furious waves. 

Everyone had.

The reminder angers him somewhat, his leg hitting the concrete at a harder force. Perhaps letting his rage overtake him when in a place of such risk is a bad idea. Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise. Either way, it’s enough to have him lose his balance.

He’s against the wall gripping the edge with nothing but his fingers only seconds later. For half a second, he thinks he stands a chance to pull himself up. Only, fate isn’t on his side today, the icy water from the waves hitting the back of his ankle. He jolts in shock.

Sunwoo loses his grip.

He falls with no grace. Stomach in his throat.  
Hits the water with a crash, an agony so extreme overtaking him that he blacks out. 

He sinks like a penny in a well. Sinks fast and rapidly, body moving in ways it shouldn’t. 

Aren’t pennies meant to be lucky? 

He remains unconscious for a while. When he wakes up, he is engulfed by the crushing volume of salt water. There is no clarity now that he is under. Just the unbearable cold that bites at his flesh and gnaws at his bones. 

Awareness. He needs to get moving.

The first thing he notices when swimming up is the way he cannot move his ankle without crying. His lungs feel heavy and weighted from the lack of oxygen. He needs to breathe. He nears the surface with hope to cry out for help. The pain is too much. This isn’t what he wanted. He didn’t even get to write his goodbye notes.

Eventually, Sunwoo breaks the surface. Inhales. Coughs. Spits. Exhales, Breathes in once more. Tries his best to swim in his state of shock. Stares at the scenery around him as his body turns to ice. 

The sky is painted a blend of stormy greys and soft pinks. Little houses sit on the hills of fleshy green grass, windows lit bright yellow as they enjoy the warmth of a place so cosy. The orange sand below transitions to muddy clay the further he is pulled out by the tide. Dragged under once more, he struggles for his life.

This can’t be happening.

Every time his head breaks the surface, he is yanked back into the bleeding cold. Ears white, cheeks blue. There is no rest for the broken.

Lighthouses become distant beacons as the fight continues. Fading away into nothing, swallowed by the sea and it’s many grasping hands. Fingers that do not leave him alone, taking his fragile body like a tennis ball and tossing it about between them.

His clothes are so heavy. He can no longer stay afloat. Treading water is getting harder by the minute. His whole word is patchy, eyes glued shut from the sting of the salt. His lungs burn.

Giving up seems to be the only option.

The sun shines faintly through a gap in the clouds when he accepts his fate. 

Sunwoo allows the next wave to drag him under once more. This time, he finds himself against the sea bed. There’s so much sand in his mouth, nostrils, eyes and trapped beneath his nails from scraping the ground. He is surrounded in it. With such a lack of vision, he surrenders.

The pressure of the darkness that consumes him weighs heavy. Lungs contracting, breathing in nothing but dirty water. He soon realises that gasping and spluttering is useless when facing the monster that traps him beneath. There is no oxygen. Just water upon water upon water.

His body sinks the more he swallows. Deeper and deeper as his natural instincts insist he keep on going. Tells him not to give up. 

There is no longer any light. Just pain and darkness. When it is over, the pain finally stops. 

Only when his heart gives up, does he float.

Nobody notices the strange object in the water. It’s obviously not a fish.

Life goes on, the sounds of the people enjoying themselves as they chatter above the harmony of the rushing waves. Shops and cafes open as per usual. Nobody even thinks to look through the stones on the dusty shore. Nobody even considers searching for him. Nobody spots his corpse laying battered, bruised, cut and destroyed as he drifts onto solid land. 

__

It’s a boy around about his age who finally finds him. He’s walking his dog, earphones in, the tinny sound almost completely drowned out by the boisterous waves that do not cave for anyone. There’s a wide smile on his face, cheeks full and chubby, flushed from the harsh wind that blows back his dyed pink hair. His strolling has a solid consistent pace, marching to a drum only he can hear. It only comes to a halt when he almost trips over a soggy black trainer. 

It had been grey, once.

Bright eyes widen in terror, plump lips falling open in shock. There’s a terrified whimper that is so quiet it can only be heard by the wind. This is the moment he makes eye contact with the dead boy before him.

Jumping back in fear, a low cry erupts as his hands fly over his mouth. He drops the leash. The dog will not stop barking, running in circles around the body as the boy tries his very best not to scream. 

This is his first time seeing a dead person. He is completely frozen to the core. Mind foggy, he reaches for his phone and pauses the gentle melody and the delicate female voice. The earbuds fall from his ears and into his palm with a quick tug. The silence is deafening. The silence holds no remorse, forcing him to face this reality. 

Chanhee falls to his knees as they give out beneath him.

Despite his blurred vision, he doesn’t look away. Heart beating louder than the waves, louder than the frantic barking. The never ending siren. Sweet beats that the boy who lays lifeless and empty will never experience again. he’s gone. How long he’s been left here for? Chanhee has next to no idea. Nonetheless, he takes a guess. He comes to the conclusion it’s been at half a day or so. Chills run down his spine and another sob gets caught in his throat.

Chanhee doesn’t understand why he was chosen to find him. The boy must be young, maybe 18. Brown salt crusted hair is swept messily around his face, his lips plump even when dried out and split in half. There are stones spilling from his pockets by the dozen. Chanhee can’t tell if they’re there by chance or if he is witnessing the result of suicide. The possibility makes his head spin. 

He’s going to be sick.

And so he is, turning around as he presses his palms hard into the sharp sand and retches. Not much comes up, it’s only 8am after all. He still hasn’t eaten. He had planned on getting himself a croissant on the way to work. Food is no longer on his mind. It has been replaced with something much worse. 

The permanent image of the boy drowning in the sand, eyes lifeless as he gazes into the face of the rising sun, unblinking, burns into his brain red hot. Trying to avoid vomiting any further, he closes his eyes and thinks of home.

He wants his mother.

Throwing up doesn’t change much, but it does allow him to think a little clearer. His mouth tastes sour. He tries his hardest to ignore the putrid scent. The sea will wash it away. Just like it always does. He can’t afford to have a full blown panic attack. He should focus on calling for help, first. Only then can he lose himself to the trauma. 

Theres got to be a family somewhere worried sick for their child. Maybe it’s even been long enough for them to send out a search party. Chanhee moves from his safe position to sit. He knows that contacting the emergency services is priority, so with shaky hands he pulls out his phone once more and dials the required number.

His dog nudges his way into his lap as he calls, growling in the direction of the corpse. Like it’s a threat to anyone, which it clearly isn’t. The pink haired boy doesn’t think anything of it. He just hugs his pet closer as he speaks to the person on the other end of the line. He can’t focus. He can’t think. He can’t breathe. He can’t do this.

The police promise to arrive as soon as possible, telling him not to make physical contact with the body. Not like he would anyways. He’s in shock. He’s not stupid.

He hates the way they talk about him; the boy. Like he’s just some unfortunate case. Just another part of the percentage. It makes him want to cry, which he does. He isn’t embarrassed to admit it. It’s horrifying. What hits hardest is the fact Chanhee doesn’t even know his name. 

There’s a Dead guy at the beach, and he was fated to stumble upon him. Chanhee brings his legs to his chest and stares out into the ocean. Wonders what on earth could have caused someone so young to end up trapped at sea. To have water fill their lungs to the point where even in death, it spills out of their open hanging mouth. It stains his drying shirt like blood. 

It’s days like these that make him think deeply about his own life decisions. These are the ones that ruin him. 

The scent, the sounds, the scenery. It will never leave his mind.

Just like the poor boy who will never truly leave the ocean.

**Author's Note:**

> i am not on twitter anymore as i’m focusing on my mental health && improving as a person,, but i read all comments and feedback!! 
> 
> i’ll try and write something else soon <3


End file.
